Savior of Dream's Past
by feonixqueen
Summary: Stark has been getting a nightly visitor lately. But what does she mean to him? "I knew you'd come back for me..." Pretty fluffy...like a bunny. First run at a fanfic ever, so it's kinda safe. honest criticism would be great my lovelies!


FATHER FIGURE

She was back again. She thought he didn't notice, being as still as he had been for most of the night. He even snored lightly into his pillow. But he noticed. Stark may have been the laziest Espada to walk the halls of Las Noches (many times half asleep on his feet), but he didn't rank as high as he did for no reason. His ability to sense quieted reiatsu was exceptional, but it was cute that she thought she had worked a way around it.

'In three, two…' he quietly counted.

"Stark?...Stark-sama, are you awake?" came the small, but steady voice.

She stiffened as he rolled over with an audible snort, his back facing her. He felt her hesitate. Hearing his breathing settle into its usual rhythm, she quietly made her way to the unoccupied side of the bed. Before, she would find herself half falling off the edge because Stark would splay himself across the expansive mattress. But for the past couple weeks, he'd stay more or less on the other side. She should have been curious about the change in his sleeping behavior, but her determination had a tendency of overtaking her caution.

It had been the same routine for the past month. She'd go to her chambers, loudly voicing that she was going to "hit the sack" or "hit the hay" or whatever other little euphemism for sleep she came up with. Why she had to announce it, he could not understand. It only made it more obvious that she was up to something. But he would acknowledge her departure with a grunt and drift back to sleep on his favorite couch. When he finally made his way to his chambers, he could sense her still awake, and if she wasn't, she would be once she felt his energy as he passed. And as usual, he would soon feel her by his door, waiting a short time to see if the waves of his reiatsu had slow into ripples of sleep.

As her small frame settled into the usual spot beside him, Stark couldn't help but think of how this all had begun…

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The first time she had come into his chambers, he was somewhat irked by the intrusion. The dead moon of Hueco Mundo was making its final arc over the sky when she had blatantly walked right through the door and startled him awake as she plopped right next to him. He sat up to look at the intruder, annoyance evident on his usually stoic face.

"What are you doing?" Stark had asked.

"Trying to sleep," she answered matter-of-factly, snuggling further under the covers to emphasis her point.

"No, really?" He replied sarcastically. "What are you doing sleeping in here?"

"I couldn't sleep in my room. I was having a – I was…"

He arched an inquisitive eyebrow at the sudden pause. Her eyes darted to the floor as she quickly continued.

"I have the best naps with you, so I thought I'd slept in here."

He smiled at her the growing blush across her pale face.

"Well, that's flattering, but you're grown and should be in your own room. And you know I like my solitude at night."

"You never complain when I join you for your day naps! What's the big deal now?"

"The big deal is that I don't want the whole of Las Noches spreading rumors about 'Stark, the Lolita Chasing Pervert' because I let you stay the night."

Sitting straight up, she huffed, "Bullshit! You don't care what anybody says about you."

"Such language from such a sweet thing," Stark said with mock horror as he swung his long legs over the side of the bed. He stretched luxuriously before turning back to the sulking figure wrapped in his sheets.

"Come on. If I personally put you to bed, will that make you feel a little better?"

She looked at him defiantly before her shoulders sagged in defeat and she took his outstretched hand. Rubbing her head affectionately, he took her back to her quarters, which were incidentally right next to his. Moonlight from her open window greeted them as they entered her slightly overdone, but organized room. 'Should've never let Aizen-sama's two silly wenches help her decorate,' Stark thought sourly. Strolling over to the bed, he let go of her hand to tie the ends of the red chiffon canopy curtain to the bed post. Sitting down on the edge, he pulled back the covers and patted the bed to coax her in. She grudgingly complied, letting him fluff her pillow before she lay down.

"There, isn't that better?" Stark said as she threw the sheets over her legs.

"I guess. I'd still rather be in your room."

He chuckled lightly at the retort. His face suddenly took on a rare seriousness.

"So what was it that really kept you awake? That pause was too long for it to be nothing."

She hadn't thought he noticed her hesitation. Usually he let things like that slide unless he found it imperative to know. Most of the time she would ignore his inquiries with a huff or put an elbow into his gut. But tonight, she was compelled to stop being the staunch little Hollow she was expected to be, and just let someone know…let him know.

She gave a deep sigh. "I-I had a…I had a nightmare."

His sleepy eyes widened in uncharacteristic surprise. "A nightmare?"

She looked at him with the deepest sincerity and nodded. He rubbed the side of his head. This was major. Even for the most long-awake of the Espada, dreams were incredibly rare.

"Do you remember it?"

She nodded again and gulped audibly as she began to recap what bits she recalled.

"I remember pain. Well, fear first. The pain came later. Me and another person. A man. There was fire and I couldn't get out. It was hard to breathe. I thought he had left me to…but he came back for me, like he promised. But other ones- the bad ones- stopped us from getting out. Then there was the pain. Everything went black and then I-we didn't hurt anymore."

She pulled her knees up to her chin before whispering, " I've had it for a couple nights in a row now."

They sat in silence. This was quite detailed for such a new dream.

"Does it mean I'm remembering when I…?"

Stark nodded yes to her unfinished question, and scratched the back of his head bashfully. This was so awkward for him, almost like talking about a morbid type of puberty. Instead of hair in funny places and body odor, it was aches as your mask molted and fragmented dreams of your human life.

"I want to know, but…I don't. I just…" she chewed her lip in agitation. "What about you, Stark-sama?"

He leaned back on his arms with a huff and looked up at the ceiling.

"Yes, I have had several. Some good, most bad. Many of them blurry, but they get more detailed over time. They can be quite unnerving at first, though you get used to them as pieces start falling into place. Sometimes you might find yourself looking forward to them. The good ones, at least."

"But, other times, I'd rather take on all the Shinigami in Soul Society than have those damn dreams."

They sat quietly for some time, the long silence broken once by the distant roar of their lowly brethren. Suddenly, Stark poked her on the head, shaking her out of her reverie. He jumped back as she took a bite at his hand.

"But despite all that, you don't see me running into Aizen-sama's chambers whenever I have nightmares, do you?" Stark said wagging the horrid digit at her.

"Shut it," she said sticking her tongue out at him. However, she couldn't help but giggle a little at the idea of Stark trying to cuddle up to the sleeping figure of their lord.

Finally seeing her out of her previous funk, he pulled the covers over her as she settled into the bed.

"Sleep," Stark said. "And that's an order."

She rolled her eyes before closing them with a sigh. Stark gingerly made his way to the door. As he opened it, an impulse made him hesitate and turn around.

"Do you have an idea of who he was? The man who came back for you?"

She thought for a while before answering. "I'm not sure. All I felt was a deep connection. Nothing gross like lovers, though. More like we were…" she paused, grasping for the word.

"Family," Stark whispered absent-mindedly.

"Yeah. That," she said quietly, not sure if she was ready to taste the word on her tongue. Stark gave a small smile as she yawned widely.

"I'll catch you in the morning," he said, then warned half-heartedly, "And no more late night visits. I can't let the others know I'm going soft on top of being a lazy bastard."

"Whatever," he heard her breathe as he closed the door behind him.

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The slight whimper from the figure next to him brought him back to the present. Some days after that first night, she once again entered his chambers with a little more stealth. Or at least she thought. But Stark never bothered kicking her out like before. He would pretend like he didn't notice and wait for her to sneak back out when the morning moon peaked over the horizon. He technically hadn't ordered her to stop the visits, and that gave her lee-way to do what she wanted. The stubborn little trouble-maker wouldn't follow through even if he did order it, anyway.

Besides, for some reason, it became a comfort to have her with him. It was somewhat disconcerting. As an Espada, his emotions towards others were supposed to be kept at bay. But his protectiveness and connection to her went far past that of a concerned and attentive leader.

Suddenly, he felt a light tug on his night shirt. He peered over his shoulder to find her gripping it with all her might. However, what caught his attention wasn't the small fist wrapped around his shirt, but her face. This was not going to be like other nights…

A dark red tear had made a bloody trail down her pale, frowning features as another whimper passed her lips.

"Where are you? Why'd you leave?" Her voice was so small. Nothing of the big-mouthed straight-talker he knew was evident. If the tear surprised him, her anguished voice wrenched his core.

As a sob escaped her, Stark couldn't stop himself from pulling her fetal figure close to him, trying to stop any more from coming. Her reiatsu lurched against his, unsure whether to reach out for another or pull away to heal itself. He had been here before, and had known the feeling of being ripped apart by memories of a past life haunting one's sleeping mind. He knew all too well because he had experienced the same intensity when she had first come under his care. Her presence flooded his nights with visions of fire and fearful searching for something, or someone. This was probably why he took so many more mid-day naps in the beginning. Gradually, as the years passed and dreams turned into solid fragments of memory, he realized who she really was to him. Soon, his naps became less frequent as his nights became more settled. That was until her dreams became what kept him up of late.

Breathing slowed, muscles relaxed, face calmed. She was still dreaming, but the worst of it had passed for the time being. 'Eye of the storm' Stark mused.

"I k-knew, I knew you'd come back for me…papa," she muttered, still deep in whatever past her unconscious mind had taken her to.

Stark wasn't totally surprised by this subconscious declaration. The dreams were bringing her closer. That night when she had told him about the mysterious savior, she had confirmed his suspicions. It was more than coincidence they had come together. There were times Stark wanted to tell her that he knew. Not everything, but something. However, he was going to let her learn the truth about them on her own, just like he had. Eventually, when her dreams became more tangible and she came to him, he would venture out with her into the unchartered waters of their past selves together. But until then…

The smallest of smiles graced her lips as he kissed her forehead.

"I didn't leave you then," Stark whispered as he placed her on her side and brought the covers to her chin. "And I won't leave you now."

"Sweet dreams, Lillinette."


End file.
